Finding Granger
by MaddCricket
Summary: They call me Hermione Granger. They say my best friends are Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, I go to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and we're in the middle of a war. Unfortunately I can't remember any of it. SSHG *Camp Nanowrimo - April 2016
1. Chapter 1

I wasn't sure what to expect when I opened my eyes. I wasn't even sure that opening my eyes was a good idea in the first place. To do so would reveal to me a life unrecognizable and unstable and as much as I was sure it made sense at one time, it was beyond what I could comprehend at that moment. So, instead, I allowed my right eye to squint, opening just enough to grasp at some blurry forms in front of me and when I grew curious, the other eye joined much to its own pleasing.

"Hermione?"

A voice spoke, a voice I didn't recognize and my head turned toward it instinctively. A boy just entering handsomely manhood stood there, mouth opened wide, his face nearly as red as his hair that moped atop his head, clinging to him for dear life. There was another boy next to him, one with messy black hair and green eyes that wore much the same expression.

"Bloody hell, what did you just do?"

The red haired boy spoke again. It was then that I realized we were standing in a room, darkened by nightfall. One of my arms was raised and I was clutching something in a shaking fist. I let it go. Whatever it was fell to the ground and lightly clattered. That drew my attention to a foot just inches away from me. I followed the black shoe up a leg, clad in black pants, over a body that was wrapped in a thick black cloak to a pale face that was staring at me in bewilderment. Standing just beside us, a tall man with no nose seemed stunned and unresponsive, his mouth dropped in a small hole shape and he was looking at nothing in particular though it seemed he was seeing things we couldn't.

"We have to go." Said the boy with the black hair and I was grabbed suddenly by a pair of forceful hands. They pulled me, yanking me hard and I found myself unable to resist.

We ran, and by we, I mean I was pulled along from the black haired boy's hand as he led me through what appeared to be an unkept house that threatened to collapse on us at any minute. Rickety old stairs led us into a passageway that spat us out through the trunk of an old and aging tree. There was a heavy smell of smoke in the air that invaded my throat, searing with every breath I took. I coughed, hard, my lungs feeling violated and heavy. There were footsteps behind me and as I glanced over my shoulder, saw that the red haired boy and pale faced man had followed behind us.

The terrain took a steep incline and I stumbled, another pair of hands grabbing me to keep me balanced and continued helping me up the hill we were now climbing.

"No, this way."

The voice connected to the hands that just grabbed me had growled direction and I found myself pulled to the side. There seemed to be no refusal from the other as the new direction came effortlessly. We were now nearing a wall of stone and as I chanced a glance up the wall, saw the outline of a castle that lingered for only a moment before a door appeared to us in the stone. It was shoved open and we hustled through, a staircase winded its way downward and I prayed I wouldn't fall. It lasted longer than I would have cared to admit, the air around us growing chilly and carrying with it a dampness, which had been better than the smoke I had inhaled, and I breathed deeply.

When we reached the bottom, the pale faced man had dropped my arm and had taken lead, guiding us through a dim corridor. We had slowed our walk, erring more on caution than haste. It was only a few more steps until another door revealed itself to us, and we were ushered through, the pale man standing to the side of the door, staring down his long, bony nose at each of us with conviction as we filed by.

I was now standing in some sort of living space as was evident by chairs and a few mismatched tables that were cluttered with papers, some of those papers were scattered over the floor as if they had been knocked into and disoriented in a rush. My interest didn't stay long there, as the door we had come in through shut with fervor and the pale man rounded on us, his cloak billowing around him as if to swallow him whole. I looked to the black haired boy who didn't seem at all phased by the man, but rather, had stiffened his shoulders and lifted his chin just so that he appeared defiant. The red-headed boy, however, had stared straight at me and I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, watching as the man snapped into a sharp turn away from the black haired boy and came at me. His lips were pulled back, revealing his teeth in a silent growl.

"What spell did you use?" He hissed, the purr in which his voice unraveled enough to send a shiver down my spine.

"Me?" I asked, and his grimace only grew.

"Do not start with the games, Granger. What spell did you use?"

"Spell?" I asked, this time quieter and even shrank back as he was now upon me, his nose a foot from mine. I could smell the stale sweetness of tea on his breath, his black eyes invading my own and I dared not look away. The black-haired boy, as if jealous of our spatial relations suddenly jumped in between us, he pushed me back, away from the man, who suddenly stood tall, his arms folding over each other.

"Move, Potter." The man said.

"I won't." The black-haired boy, now identified as 'Potter' replied.

"I'll ask once again and only once." The man said. "Move." His lips barely twitched upon saying it. His features took on such a ferocious look that I was about to move Potter myself, had it not been for the red-head who had jumped in as well. I was pushed back even further, now standing behind the both of them, and could just see that they all had some sort of sticks like the one I was holding, pointed at one another. The pale faced man was the first to back down, lowering his arm slowly.

"Circumstances being what they are, we have not time to fight among ourselves. Might I suggest we turn our attention to Granger and figure out what happened and continue sorting our differences at a later time?" He said. Potter and the red-head exchanged glances, both lowering their wands slowly, but only slightly.

"You're working with him, obviously our trust is on high alert. One wrong move, Snape and we'll be sure to hex you into oblivion."

The man Potter referred to as 'Snape' pressed his lips together, pocketed the stick he held and moved toward me, his eyes connected with mine again. I dared not look away as the intensity with which he sought my soul had me captured without much trying. Almost immediately the room swam, plunging into a bright, pure light. It was just him and I now, standing in a seamless room. On one of the spaces of white next to us was projected a large black square. It seemed to hover in mid air, there was nothing supporting it and I could easily walk around it had I not been so intently watching Snape. He had been staring at the screen, curiously, and when it remained the same he turned on me. I yelped in shock and took a few quick steps backward as he started toward me.

"Your memories, where are they?" His question didn't seem threatening, a sense of worry was obviously there, and the slight glimpse of doubt that crossed him over had me shaking my head.

"I-I don't know." My voice was weak, shaking. Memories were of no concern to me, and why he wanted them I could not fathom a guess.

"Think, Granger. I need you to show me what you did back in the shack just now. I need to see the spell you used."

"I told you, I don't know." I repeated. I really didn't know, I couldn't even recall how I had been where I was, or who the people were around me. I was also almost certain that had I memories, I wouldn't give them to him. The sneer he was showing me at that moment tugged at a disappointment in me and before I knew it we were tossed back into the living quarters where Potter and the red-headed boy were standing on either side of us, Potter glaring at Snape and the ginger once again giving me attention that I didn't exactly like. When I found the power to break away from Snape's gaze I turned, spotting a door on the far wall and took off for it.

"Hermione!"

They were screaming after me, but I didn't stop. I needed out of there as I had begun to feel like a spectacle in a circus, one of those people labeled as freaks that were scrutinized and poked at. I ran, not sure where I was headed, and not much caring as long as I got away from Potter, Snape and that other boy. I let my feet lead me, as long as they kept moving and when I met another winding staircase, I followed it up until it broke into a corridor, and then I kept running.

I could hear voices after a while, a lot of screaming, and just as I was about to break through the door that separated me from them I was grabbed and pulled back. Potter had caught up with me, his arms were around me, fighting as I kicked and screamed to be let go.

"It's a blood bath out there, just hang on a minute." He said. Attention gained, I was finally able to push his arms from me, turning to see seriousness written across his face. I glanced to the door, the screams growing clearer as if they were happening right on the other side, words I couldn't make out, hisses that cut through the air, flashes of light from under the door and thuds as if heavy things were hitting the ground soon after.

"Just tell me what's going on!" Potter pleaded. I threw my hands to my sides and pleaded back.

"I don't know."

...

We were seated in an office, large and round, with portraits of wizards that moved within their frames hanging on the walls all around us. Curious artifacts and odd looking contraptions lined the shelves on the walls. Sitting behind the desk that was in front of us was a friendly looking witch, and though she carried a hint of a sternness about her, all I could read from her silent disposition just then was confusion that about matched mine.

I was certain of a few things now, it all having been pieced together by Snape, Potter and the red-head who had been called Ronald Weasley among the retelling of the nights events; my name is Hermione Granger, Potter and Weasley are my best friends, and we were standing in the shrieking shack watching Snape hold conversation with someone called the Dark Lord, or, "You-Know-Who" as they seemed fond of calling him. Somewhere along the lines I had grabbed my own stick, a wand as I was notified, and had performed a spell that had caused a large explosion and had knocked everyone over. Snape said that the Dark Lord had still been there when we left running, the man with no nose I had seen that had appeared stunned and unresponsive. This seemed to be the biggest factor as the witch behind the desk's eyes had widened.

"Whatever spell Hermione had cast seems to have scared him enough to retreat." Harry said. He gave a halfway smile to me and I tried returning it, feeling like I failed miserably as I still had no idea what I had done exactly.

"It may only be temporary, Mr. Potter." Minerva reminded. "As for you, Miss Granger, we all would appreciate it very much if you could try to remember what you did."

My eyes rolled, and I let out a heavy sigh.

"I can't. I have no idea what even happened, where I am...who I am for that matter." It had all been said before and I was beginning to sound like a broken record player that was being ignored.

"Very well." She said in disappointment. "For now I think it's best to return to your common room. Severus, a word, if I may?"

I wasted no time in exiting her office, stopping outside her door to wait for Harry and Ronald, which wasn't a long wait as they were right behind me in a few seconds. Snape had remained behind, shutting the door softly to exclude us from further conversation with one further dark glare at the three of us.

"You really don't remember?" Ronald asked. My silence was enough of an answer.

"It sounds like an obliviation spell." Harry added.

"Obliviation spell?" I asked, and he nodded.

"If Lockhart was any proof, you're showing the same signs." Harry sounded sad, and he looked away quickly. "Come on."

"Who's Lockhart?" I asked after them as we made our way down the staircase to the hallway.

"Who's Lockhart?" Harry asked sounding astounded. "Never thought I'd hear you ask that!"

I was a little apprehensive to ask why, thankful that Harry continued explaining through a laugh.

"Back in our second year he taught Defense, worst excuse for a wizard if there ever was one. He's known for fabricating stories, obliviation got the real heroes and using their tales as his own. Quite a charmer of witches, too. You kept a get well note under your pillow from him while you were in the infirmar-ouch!"

Ronald had dug his elbow into Harry's side, giving him a look that I wasn't supposed to see.

"He's a phony." Ronald said. "Best not to remember much about him if you ask me."

"Alright, fine I won't. But that still doesn't explain to me what an oblivi-oblivara-" I struggled with the word having forgotten how to pronounce it. "-whatever that spell was I supposedly preformed."

"Obliviate." Ronald said staring at me in shock. "It's a memory charm. Erases everything you know."

Without noticing it I had halted in my step, Harry and Ronald had taken a few more before noticing I was no longer with them.

"I erased my memory?" I asked when they turned around. "Why would I do such a thing?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out." Harry said before waving us forward again. I followed, having not much of a chance to go elsewhere.


	2. Chapter 2

It felt strange sleeping in a bed they called mine that I had no memory of. I guess I was tired enough to push past the uneasy feeling as sleep came easy and when I came to, a new day had started without me. So, after I woke up, dressed, and made my way downstairs, I felt even more lost with the small segregated groups of my unfamiliar peers staring at me when I made my entrance. Cheeks surely red from the attention, I did my best to ignore them and picked out a seat in a comfortable couch in front of an empty fireplace. It didn't take long before Ronald had saddled up beside me sideways, his legs crossing under him.

"Feeling any better?" He asked. I scoffed, my eyes rolling.

"If by 'better' you mean if I have any returning memories, then no. I don't feel better in the least bit."

I wasn't looking at him, but his red hair was hard to miss out of my peripheral vision and from that I saw him hang his head.

"I-I'm...I mean now, sincerely, how are you feeling?" He sounded dismissed.

"As well as I could be." I answered. "You?" I chanced a look and he straightened up at the attention. Shrugging, he pouted a little and said,

"Same." His eyes flicked over to a far wall and immediately began to stand. "Are you hungry? There's a buffet, I can get you something?" Then before I could answer, was off, piling a plate high with sausages and eggs, toast, and pickled herring. When he brought it back to me I almost hurled at the amount of food that teetered dangerously, almost falling off the plate.

"Please don't expect me to eat all of this." I said, taking a piece of toast and nibbled at it. He shook his head quickly.

"I know you won't." He said. "But I also know you will let me finish what you don't eat, so I grabbed what I wanted as well."

"What else do you know about me?" I asked, unaware that those around us had stopped in their own conversations to lean in closer, trying to hear ours.

"Well...lets see." Ronald's face screwed up as if he was deep in thought. "Your name is Hermione Jean Granger, your birthday is on September 19th and you live in England. You have a cat named Crookshanks-"

"-Crookshanks?" I mouthed silently, wondering why in the world I would pick such a name.

"-you enjoy reading and learning, definitely the smartest out of us-you, Harry and me that is, your heart is made from pure gold and I really wish you could remember all of this." Ronald's voice had lowered and softened a few octaves and pitches as he finished. I could almost swear that he was embarrassed to be telling me anything, like he was afraid he'd say the wrong thing. There were giggles from those around us that stopped the moment I glanced around to stare at them. The groups scattered, some retreating back to the stairs that led to the rooms, a few others going through the portrait that blocked the common room entrance.

"And you?" I asked. "What about you?"

"Me?" He asked.

"Yes, Ronald. Ronald Weasley. You."

He flapped his mouth.

"Well, I'm Ron and you're best friends with my sister Ginny. I like Quidditch and Chocolate Frogs." He shrugged again. "I'm quite simple, really. Not much to explain."

"Hmm." I glanced him over once and turned back to the non-existent fire, taking another piece of toast feeling like there was still something he was holding back from telling me. Deciding not to question him about it, I asked about Harry.

"Harry's known as The Boy Who Lived, he became our best friend in first year, an excellent Quidditch player. We've been helping him defeat You-Know-Who for as long as we've known him."

"The Boy Who Lived?" Honestly it sounded quite silly, and this You-Know-Who guy..."What's the deal with all of this? I understand we're in a war, but the reasons behind it-"

"-Voldemort killed Harry's parents." A girl with the same shade of red hair leaned against the back of the couch.

"Please don't say his name." Ron begged, immediately growing sour. "It's taboo-"

"-and makes no difference anymore whether we say it or not. He knows where we are, we aren't hiding from him." The girl narrowed her eyes at Ron then turned her head back to me.

"As I was saying, he killed Harry's parents and tried to kill Harry, but he survived gaining only his scar on his forehead. Old Voldy's been after him ever since."

I nodded taking in the information slowly, thankful that she had gotten straight to the point; I had a feeling Ron would have stumbled over his words or started on a tangent that would have only confused me further.

"You really don't remember me, do you?" She asked. I bit my lip, shaking my head.

"No. I don't." I answered softly. She looked disheartened for only a second then smiled softly at me, extending a hand.

"I'm Ginny, your best friend and confidante when this one or the other isn't around." She threw her thumb at Ron then waved her hand aimlessly when she mentioned 'the other one.'

"Ah," I looked between her and Ron and could tell the relation quite easily. They shared the same facial features, the same hair, how it didn't dawn on me earlier than this astounded me. Ginny's smile grew and she stood straight.

"Come on, lets walk. I'm sure I can fill you in on anything my brother would otherwise confuse you further about." She ruffled his hair and I stood. Ron watched me, sadly, and for a moment I considered staying there with him, but Ginny linked her arm with mine and pulled me away.

We left the common room via the portrait hole that swung open for us, and the moment it closed with us on the other side, Ginny began to clue me in on everything, and I do mean everything. From our group of friends, nodding at a few of them as they passed us, to the classes we had taken, jokes we had shared, teachers I should know about. I learned she had been dating Harry for the past year which led her to touch on how Harry had saved her in the Chamber of Secrets.

"They mentioned something about that last night...Lockhead or whatever his name was, used that Oblitawhatever spell and erased his memories, too." I mentioned feeling somewhat excited I could share in the conversation rather than just listen. Ginny nodded.

"Lockhart, and yes, he very much obliviated his memories away. He's in St. Mungo's now...that's the wizarding hospital...they say he'll never fully recover." Ginny seemed saddened as she spoke, but visibly shook the emotion away quickly. "Probably best for him and our kind. He did nothing but steal the adventures of others and cover them up with him as the hero."

"Ah." I said.

"As for the Chamber of Secrets, have you been told about it?"

"No." I wasn't sure I wanted to be told about it with a name such as that.

"It held a Basilisk that can petrify you with one glance. You were even petrified by it that school year."

"I was?"

"Mmm." Ginny sucked in a sharp breath. "And if it wasn't for you grasping a note about the beast, I'm quite positive they wouldn't have succeeded. We'd all have ended up dead...or petrified...whichever one old have come first."

Frowning, I didn't have much to say to that, but Ginny didn't seem to care, at least she didn't look any less pleased as we walked.

"You know Ron-" she started quietly. "He's not so much sense as he appeared back there."

"He's not?" Dense? I wouldn't think him dense, exactly. Aloof, yes, but dense just seemed to harsh.

"It's because he likes you." A crooked grin lifted a side of Ginny's mouth and my eyebrows raised.

"This is...good?" I asked.

"Well you have never rejected him. I just figured it would be best to get that out there, let you know before you start thinking him strange. It wasn't exactly a secret before-" she cleared her throat, her eyebrows came together as she refused to look at me. "And if I didn't know better, I'd say the feeling was mutual, though the odds are a bit wonky now, you not remembering and all." Ginny tugged at my arm to keep me from walking further. "I'm just letting you know now that it is fine, should you end up fancying him...though what you'd see in him is beyond me."

"Um." A smile was obviously forced from me. "Thanks?" I said. As far as I was concerned, feelings and dating were the last thing on my mind. A part of me wondered just how well known his feelings for me were, but I hadn't the chance to ask as Snape stepped out from the shadows of the next corner. Ginny stiffened immediately upon seeing him, letting out a small groan.

"Miss Granger." He greeted me, appearing to do the same for Ginny, but his mouth only hung open. His eyes scanned her over once before they snapped back to me, the hairs on the back of my neck raised under his gaze and I wondered if it would be like that every time. "Might I have a moment?"

His eyes darted between the two of us again and I couldn't think of an excuse fast enough before he turned sharply and began down the hallway we had just come from. I dropped Ginny's arm, catching a forlorn look from her before quickening my own pace to catch up with Snape.


	3. Chapter 3

The large black screen hung in front of us again. I was being coached by Snape to bring fourth images upon it, but I was having a hard time concentrating seeing as I had no idea what to bring or even how to start putting images on it. Sitting there, a small headache forming, I glared at the screen, my mind just as blank and had no idea what he expected to see, but I tried. For the life of me I tried, wishing and hoping that something would pop up there.

"It should come easily. Naturally." He hissed into my ear as he stood right beside me. I scoffed.

"Obviously it isn't." I said. "I really have no idea what I'm doing, Snape. Why even bother anymore? You know very well I can't do-"

"-Can't?" He grabbed my shoulder and turned me around, my headache lifting finally as my gaze tore away from the screen.

"Can't?" He repeated again and judging by the incredulous look on his face I gathered it was something he was shocked to hear. I lifted my shoulders up to my ears, shrugging his hand away from my arm.

"I can't." I told him, stressing it this time, and he grabbed at his neck, dropping his head.

"Let me remind you that you've never backed away from a challenge, and you've always succeeded." His voice was low, almost disappointed in me. "Alright." He said, sounding defeated. "Get us out of here." He sighed heavily and without much hassle, we were back in his quarters. His room had been tidied up since the last time we saw it, tables, chairs and papers in order. I sat down immediately and watched as he paced, back and fourth across the room at a slow pace.

"I'm sorry, sir." I said, feeling it was the right thing to say just then though I wasn't sure I was. He looked at me for a second, but quickly looked away.

"It's strange." He said. "I half expected your mind to be full of books, not a cinema screen." He came to a stop next to his fireplace and stared into it. There were no flames, but I could almost see the reflection of them being dreamt in his eyes.

"Books?" I asked.

"Have they failed to tell you of your love of reading?" He glanced at me again, then again looked away just as fast. "Your knowledge had been a comfort to me in this time. Knowing that you were with Potter, something had allowed me to worry less, but now I'm afraid we're all in more danger."

A guilt rose in me, though I knew I couldn't help it. Was I really that much of a help to whatever was happening? Ginny had said a little about it, and just yesterday I had heard the fighting happening, but I couldn't imagine how any of my help would have helped any of this.

"I'm lost, sir." I said. "I've been told little about Voldemort and I'm clueless as to what this war is even about."

Snape turned away from the fireplace and took one long look at me.

"What have you been told?" He asked.

"Ginny mentioned that Voldemort had killed Harry's parents and failed to kill him, and I guess that he's after Harry?"

"Voldemort never intended to kill Harry's parents." He began. "He was after Harry, having heard a prophecy that foretold his own end. James and Lily only got in the way." He spat the sentence as if it burned his tongue. He took in a deep breath, closing his eyes in one small blink.

"As for the war itself, our Dark Lord feels it's important to bring justice to those who deserve it. He believes in purity, of restoring our world to what it once was."

"And this is..." I hesitated, still not grasping onto what he was trying to say. "...bad?"

Snape pressed his lips together and looked at me again. I could see he was fighting with himself on what to say, but I didn't hurry him.

"It's not as simple as good or bad. In fact there's as much good in it as there is bad. It all depends on who you are as a wizard and how you were brought up."

Grasping nothing from what he had just said, I decided it was best not to ask another question, not wanting myself to leave here feeling twice as confused as I did now. Snape pressed himself away from the fireplace and walked over to me, his arms crossing in front of his chest and he stood only inches away. His dark eyes had captured mine once more and for a moment I thought he was going to pull us back into my memories, make me work on drawing up images on the screen again, but was relieved when he didn't mutter the magic words that allowed that to happen.

"I have a feeling that as soon as the Dark Lord finds out what has happened, as soon as he realizes the stronghold in Potter's protection has lost her memories, he'll try to use you to his advantage. As such, I'm not always going to be there to protect you or help you so it is imperative that you spend your time wisely."

"How?" I asked. "How will this 'Dark Lord' use me?"

"You're Muggle-born, Hermione. Normally that would put you at a disadvantage, a breed of witch that has always been on the-"

"-Muggle-born?" How much did I forget? The word was as foreign to me, sounding like another language in my ears.

"Merlin." Snape heaved a sigh, sounding annoyed that I didn't know the meaning.

"A Muggle is a being who fails to possess any kind of magic within them. Non-wizarding humans. Two Muggles get together and have a magical being-" He presented his hand over me, "-makes a Muggle-born."

"Oh." I beamed, happy to finally understand something. "So my parents aren't wizard or witch." I reiterated, showing that I understood. He gave a slight nod of his head.

"What about you?" I asked. He hesitated on answering, and when he did, spoke so quietly I had to strain to hear him.

"My heritage is not important to the matter at hand."

I had struck a sour point judging by the look on his face and the sudden rigid form he took.

"Alright." I began a slow saunter around his room for no particular reason other than to step away from him. "So I'm Muggle-born. What does this have to do with Voldemort using me?"

Snape shrugged slightly, watching me carefully as if my moving around made him uncomfortable.

"I do not know. Beyond the fact that he doesn't like Muggle-borns in the first place, there's no saying what he'd do with a Muggle-born that doesn't remember anything. He has not called upon me since we left him last night."

"Does he call upon you often?"

Snape shifted, another sign of growing uncomfortable and he sneered.

"Lost your memory yet you're still as curious as ever." He mumbled. I caught it and smirked at him.

"I take it I haven't lost all parts of me then?" Giggling as his sneer seemed to grow wider, I asked him again of Voldemort calling upon him.

"Unfortunately, no." His back straightened and he walked past me. "My dealings with You-Know-Who are none of your concern at this moment."

"I'm only trying to figure out what's going on." I defended myself. He didn't seem to care, if he even heard me at all as he was at his door and pulling it open.

"Seeing as leaving my Lord behind, he has begun to think of me as a traitor. Surely he will be after me too and before any of us can get into further dangerous territory, I'll advise you to leave now and never mind my goings-on's with the Death Eaters."

My jaw dropped and I looked from the door to him. His eyes were narrowed, his lips pulled tightly in something that only spoke of seriousness and I obeyed, turning to him as I exited his room.

"I was only curious." I mumbled. He didn't close the door quickly, but rather, stood there holding it open, staring at the space I had just come from. His head turned sharply to me.

"Research as you must. Learn all you want about the enemy, but just know that it's up to you who to trust and I advise you trust no one. Not until you have your memories back at least. It's hard to say who will try to tempt you once they learn about your...disadvantage."

And with a nod of his head, he shut the door. I was left standing in a corridor, confused, alone, and not enjoying the looks the people around me were giving me.

A/N: So something amazing has happened! All within 24 hours I've applied for a dispatch job, been interviewed and hired. After two years of applying places I'm finally getting out of the mall! I start in a couple of days, so I'm going to be trying to dish out the writing as much as possible before then, as I'm sure the training will be quite intense and have no idear how much free time I'll have. If I disappear, do not fret-I will return to my stories when everything settles down.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry had been sitting on the couch with Ron when I reentered the common room. Both of them were huddled around a piece of parchment, watching it carefully, and as they were whispering quietly back and fourth to each other, seemed too absorbed in it to even acknowledge my presence.

I stood there, in front of them seeing a large map had been unfolded and placed between them. From what I could gather, it was a map of the school, just a jumble of hallways and classrooms to me, and I felt lost even just looking at the maze of lines. What drew my attention deeper, however, was the trace of small footsteps and names that appeared and moved all over the parchment. I quickly recognized McGonagall's name slowly moving about the Great Hall among a mass of others, and Snape's who was still in his rooms. With enough searching, I was even able to find my name right next to Harry and Ron's and when I glanced to them, they were looking at me with smiles.

"Have a good time with Snape?" Harry asked, chuckling slightly and I furrowed my forehead.

"We saw you with him." Harry pointed to the map, "It shows where everyone is at all times."

Eyebrows lifting, I watched the map again, seeing McGonagall's name moving across the parchment, now out of the Great Hall and in a corridor. It was perplexing, really. Enough so that I couldn't find any words that sounded right to say about it and ended up gawking.

"Just for Hogwarts though." Ron added sounding disappointed, "It would be really neat if it showed outside of the gate. Easier to see what's going on out there."

"What do you mean?" I asked, lowering myself to the ground to sit.

"You-Know-Who and his gits are somewhere out there probably planning their next attack, and if we could only see where they were, we would be able to plan something to prevent it."

"Oh." I scanned the edges of the paper, seeing a bit of the castle grounds, but just as they said, the whole of the map seemed to be concentrated on the castle.

"We've mainly been watching Snape, though. He's the closest thing we have to Voldemort." Harry said, tapping his wand tip at Snape's name.

"He told me that Voldemort-" There was an uncomfortable growl that came from Ron at that name as I said it, "-wouldn't be so keen on him now that he had left with us and not remained behind. Are you certain that watching him will show you something?"

"One thing you have to learn about Snape, Hermione. He's a Death Eater. They're not to be trusted. He killed Dumbledore, and makes our lives miserable." Harry spoke heatedly, his eyes darkening slightly.

"Our old headmaster." Ron explained seeing me frown at the name. "Dumbledore trusted him enough, he allowed Snape into our Order-that is, the group formed to fight against You-Know-Who-and all we know he was just gathering information to pass on to him."

"He doesn't seem all that bad. A little frightening, but when I was with him-" I started saying, but Harry cut me off.

"-He's a spy, Hermione. Either way, he knows how to work his way around things. Don't take any friendliness from him as sincere."

"And don't trust a word he says." Added Ron.

"Why did he kill Dumbledore?" I asked. Harry's grip tightened on his wand and Ron looked from Harry to me.

"Because You-Know-Who needed him gone. With Dumbledore around he actually had an enemy high enough in the wizarding world that could stop him. With Dumbledore gone, he's the most powerful."

"And you know for certain that Snape was the one who killed this guy?"

"I watched him." There was a bit of sourness to Harry's voice and I'm sure it came from my own naivety of the situation than from the question I had asked, but I still winced.

"I watched Snape perform the killing curse on Dumbledore just before he ran away with the other Death Eaters."

"I...I'm sorry." I said, able to tell that Dumbledore must have meant something to Harry. He looked back at the map and I dared not ask anymore questions in fear that someone would end up angry within the next couple of minutes. As much as they were telling me Snape wasn't to be trusted, I wondered just how much truth laid in that. I didn't know him as well...at least anymore, and from what I've gotten to know in the past couple of hours the man didn't come off as disreputable or untrustworthy. He was trying to help me obtain memories as much good as staring at a black screen had gotten us so far, at least he was trying which was far more help than Harry and Ron had done for me in the past few hours.

"Before I lost my memory...do you know what I thought of him?" I asked, hoping that they'd give me an honest answer and not fill it in with what they wanted me to believe. For a long while they were silent, almost reluctant to speak.

"We aren't exactly sure." Ron said, breaking the silence, squinting his eyes. "You've always said you trusted him, but after he killed Dumbledore you stopped saying much about it."

A part of me felt right in trusting him still, but finding out Snape had killed someone made me unsure if that feeling should be continued. Harry moved, drawing himself closer to the map, turning it around so he could see it closer and was scanning every inch of the parchment he could.

"Trusting him is the least of our worries right now. He's gone." Harry, still searching the map, had his finger still tapping on Snape's rooms. His name didn't appear anywhere else on the map and judging by the reactions of the boys, this was not a good thing.

"Do you think he apparated?" Ron asked, grabbing at the map to turn it so he could look at it, and Harry let it go, standing quickly, he rushed from the couch disappearing up the stairs to the boys dormatories.

"Apparating?" I asked. Ron didn't hear me, he was turned all the way around in his seat, watching as Harry left. A few moments later, Harry appeared again carrying a shimmering cloak draped over one arm. Ron stood and met him near the portrait hole and they looked expectantly at me until I caught on and joined them.

The cloak didn't come in handy until we were at the main door to the castle, Harry gathering us around as he shook it much like a bull fighter, and then tossed it over all of our heads. Ron reached out and grabbed the door handle, twisted it, and pushed the door open.

"Where are we going?" I whispered, my mind half stuck on why Harry had thrown a cloak over us.

"Finding Snape." Harry whispered back. "If he's not on the map, there's a good chance he's left to find the rest of the Death Eaters."

As a solid block of arms and legs, we moved over the castle grounds, walking closer and closer to a willow tree. If my directional sense was right, we had run from this area almost a day ago and was soon proven correct as we carefully snuck through the overhanging branches and through the trunk of it, which had opened a hole as soon as Harry had pressed on a knobby part. We stayed under the blanket as much as I wished to get out from under it, following a path that brought us to the inside of an aging house. My breath hitched as I saw the spot from last night, expecting to see Voldemort still standing there.

"Now what?" Ron asked, turning around as best as he could while still keeping under the cloak. Harry had done the same, then slowly pulled the cloak off from all of us. I breathed deeply, though the air was thick with dust, it felt good to be out from under the constraints.

"They can't be too far away." Harry said, rolling the robe up between his arms. He walked to the window, carefully looking out of it, forcing himself to see what laid beyond in the distance. Ron had taken another window, leaving me in the middle of the room. Hopeless, I looked between both boys and decided to take their lead and find my own window. I moved up some more stairs, entering a further part of the house that grew cold and darker in shadow, and to a window that allowed me to view an expanse of field, small lights of a tiny town off in the distance. I wasn't sure what it was to be looking for. Staring out across a barren land dotted with trees, I expected maybe a campfire or some sign of a campsite, but nothing of the sort that I could see anyway, presented itself.

I did, however, catch a glimmer, just a small one, that seemed to peek out from behind a tree, disappearing just as quickly. Narrowing my eyes, I watched for it again thinking that maybe it had just been a reflection off the glass, but there, almost matching in shadow, a figure seemed to dart away. It was just beyond visible, but I was certain I was watching something. Backing away from the window, I raced down the steps and over to Harry, who had been looking out the window on the same side and air pressed my finger against it in the direction of the trees.

"There! Right there! Something, then it was gone!"

Ron rushed over, his head fitting between Harry's and mine as we watched, but whatever had been was no longer in site. I left the window and found the front door, using all my strength to pull it open on its rusty hinges and took off for the forest.

I led the way, following the last known direction I had seen the figure move off in, and didn't realize that Harry and Ron hadn't been behind me until I was a good way in. Slowing my speed, straining to listen for any signs of footsteps, or my name being called from one of them, I was hit with numbness, from my toes to my head, and collapsed in a heap on the forest floor.

It was a wonder I could even breathe. The rest of me wouldn't work, and I had tried my hardest to fight off the black figure that moved toward me, his face covered in some kind of mask. It took barely any weight for him to lift me off the ground, toss me over his shoulder, and walk even further into the wood. I could do nothing further than flop around, every step jarring my bones, my body like a rag doll.

...

"Put her down, Crabbe. There." A voice spoke, slithering gently through the air and I was lowered, although roughly, to the ground. Crabbe's hands worked to right me into a sitting position, resting my head back against something hard enough to support it. There was a group of people surrounding me as he let me go, all wearing the same dark clothes and masks, all watching me through the slits of the eyeholes, grinning painfully through the barred gap in their mouthpiece. I felt a shiver building, but it didn't happen. The figure that looked in front of me and was now gliding toward me had scared it away. His pale face and sunken eyes took in every inch of me, he had no nose and the grin he was wearing revealed teeth that weren't exactly cared for and for some reason it bugged me.

The next thing I knew, we were standing in a white room with a black screen. My memories, rather, lack thereof. I didn't know how, it happened so quickly, but he was now walking around it, scrutinizing every inch of it with fervor. I was bracing for some kind of anger outcry as he looked like a man who would rage quite quickly, but he started laughing. Low and slow at first, and then growing into a victorious chortle.

The white room and screen disappeared, thrusting us into the circle of cloaked people again. He made a wide circle, coming to stop at a distance, his arms spread slightly open, palms upward, his grin still there.

"My theory stands correct. She remembers nothing!" His voice was louder, still silky though, and it seemed to wrap around all of us. The people whooped and hollered at the news in a celebratory fashion, one of them shooting sparks out of the tip of their wand.

"Be it understood," he spoke again, his hands raising slightly, "that until otherwise decided upon, she is not to be harmed. That will be her own decision come the time. Severus, present yourself."

I watched as another figure stepped out from behind the crowd and a hand removed the mask, taking one knee and bowing low.

"My Lord." He said and I recognized the voice. I could feel my heart pounding faster as it dawned on me, that man had been Voldemort and 'Severus' was none other than Snape. I was in the middle of Death Eaters, frozen, unable to so much as protect myself if I needed to. I wished to know where Harry and Ron had taken off to, wondering if they had even followed my trail. Watching Snape bow, Voldemort gave no warning before pulling his wand and casting a spell that caused Snape to writhe in pain. I couldn't look away, my eyes drawn to the spectacle that had begun, wanting so badly to move. Whatever spell Voldemort had cast was obviously one intended to do pain, and Snape appeared to be in plenty of it.

"STOP!" My voice cracked finally, something had released in my throat, allowing me to scream and though I didn't expect Voldemort to stop on my word, when he actually did stop it left me surprised.


End file.
